We live now upon an island amid many perils, and our hands are more often upon the bowstring than upon the harp.

-Haldir



14. To Bard or not to Bard

"'Tis a beautiful day in the neighborhood!" the young bard cried with dreamy glee as he strolled down the street, grinning and winking at passersby. He broke into a skip and a song.

"'Tis a beautiful day in the neighborhood,
A beautiful day for an adventurer,
Won't you have one...
Could you have one...

Let's memorize magic and journey around,
To polish off armor just reasons abound,
Could you find one...
Let's go find one...

I've always wanted to have an adventure just like you!
I've always wanted to go on a quest with you!

So, let's make the most of this beautiful day,
Heroes or madcaps, we might as well say:
Would you have one?
Could you have one?
Let's go adventure!
Don't just ponder,
Let's go wander,
Won't we have an adventure?"

He jumped into the air, kicking his heels together with a twinkle in his eye, and cartwheeled twice before tripping over and landing in a cart and spraying crushed watermelon juice about the square.


----


"WOW!" Imoen bubbled as her party strode into Beregost at dusk. "I've never seen a city this big!"

"This is but a modest town, child," Jaheira smiled.

"But..." Imoen looked around, "Look at how many buildings there are! And all these people! And..ick! What's that smell!?" The purple-suited thief wrinkled her nose.

"That, child, is the smell of so-called civilization," the druid likewise scowled at the city-stench, "The features you'll note of this town, both good and bad, you will find to be only more extreme should you ever venture to large cities such as Baldur's Gate, Athkatla, Waterdeep..."

"...or Mezoberranzan," Viconia grinned. Jaheira snorted.

"Ooh," whistled Imoen, "I want to go there! I want to go everywhere!"

"In time, perhaps you will," Jaheira smiled.

"Have you been there? To Baldur's Gate and A-whatchama-ka?" Imoen asked.

"Yes," Jaheira nodded, "Khalid and I have been to both cities several times. Both cities are a frantic bustle of people, the buildings stretch on and on..."

"Wow! Imoen smiled, "Imagine how much stuff there is to sneak thr- um, explore, in big cities like that! I'm sooo curious!"

"Yes, but cities also have many more ruffians and dangers in them too, and those who look into such things find themselves drawn there more often than they'd like."

Onyx, who had been walking ahead and listening to Khalid stutter out swordsman's wisdom, perked up at this last line and looked over his shoulder at Jaheira.

"Have you two been other places?" Imoen asked Jaheira innocently.

"Yes," Jaheira sighed, "In fact, we are both from other places; lands to the south. I am from Tethyr, and Khalid is from Calimshan."

Onyx nodded to Khalid, "Yes, your name does sound Calimshanite, though my knowledge is limited to books."

Khalid smiled, "P-pretty p-p-percetive of you, Onyx."

"Forgive my intrusion," Onyx began, banking on Khalid's genuine openness - on most matters, "But I was under the impression that elves and half-elves were quite rare in Calimshan."

Khalid nodded, and not the least bit defensively answer, "Yes, I...well, my father was a wealthy merchant there, and my mother was....just one of his mistresses, I'm afraid. Kept an elf for variety and all that." He looked down sadly, and Onyx found himself truly appreciating his new friend's honesty.

Onyx's brow furrowed. "Was she a slave? I have heard that such practices are quite common in Calimshan, and in fact quite legal. In fact the more I learn about that place, the less I..."

"Every culture has its share of evils," Jaheira cut him off, "Be not so quick to judge."

"Well, sorry for prying," Onyx shrugged, "Who said I liked this bandit-run region either?" he chuckled with both levity and gravity.

Khalid continued, "Actually, she was just a servant, though I suppose it's not as if she had anywhere else to g-g-go. I bear my father no ill will, but I wish he hadn't ig-g-gnored me for my human brothers. I ended up j-j-j-just j-joining the city milita and spending my time studying martial tactics, and, well, eventually I left to seek my fortune - and love," he took Jaheira's hand and she smiled, "Here."

Onyx nodded. He kept noticing how the half-elven couple avoided mention of their recent pasts, how they knew Gorion and anyone who'd recently employed them and such. He'd learned about Jaheira's childhood; her noble parents dead at the hands of egalitarian revolutionaries and her caretaker's flight to the grove where she would learn the ways of a druid and a warrior; but she too played close to the chest with her more recent past. Indeed, they'd even avoided mentioning how they'd met each other, a question most couples bubbled effusively in answering, and Onyx suspected that it had something to do with their link to Gorion, indeed they might have even met through him for all he knew.

The young paladin's thoughts were interrupted by the cacophonous shout of a hooded man standing in front of the Burning Wizard tavern where their footsteps had now taken them.

"Hail, adventurers," the man sang in a high tenor, throwing back a watermelon-juice-splattered hood to reveal a smooth, very boyish and foppish face with a very goofy grin and dreamer's eyes, "I have a proposal for you. I have heard that you're an excellent group of warriors!"

Onyx grew suspicious. He recognized them? Was it a bluff or a misstatement? This goofy guy looked much more prone to that sort of foolishness than likely to be another assassin. Then again, the bounty hunters he'd come across so far hadn't exactly been brooding scholars, so who knew?

"Er, where'd you hear that?" Onyx furrowed his brow.

"Oh, uh," the young man grinned, "Lucky guess."

"Riiiight..." Onyx groaned, relieved.

"How would you like a well-paying job as bodyguards for my mistress?" the man called. He smiled lopsidedly and gave a friendly, almost clownish wave. "I'm Garrick and I work for Silke Rosena. She's the most skilled musician and actor along the Sword Coast; in fact, she's to play at the Duchal palace before the month's done. But she's been having some problems of late. Some thugs have been hired by Feldepost to hurt her bad, because she didn't perform at the inn when she was supposed to. You can't blame her for not showing up, what with a villain like Feldepost running the place," he shrugged with an uncontrolled flop of his gangly youth's body. "She needs mercenaries to protect her until she's ready to go to Baldur's Gate. She's willing to pay about 300 gold."

Onyx looked this Garrick over. Seemed to be a minstrel like this supposed mistress, judging from the harp at his belt. A crossbow hung on the other side, and chainmail peeked out from beneath his jesterlike and red-green-brown tunic. His face was actually not so unlike Onyx's - they shared high cheeks, bright blue eyes, short brown hair, and high foreheads. Garrick was shorter and thinner, but with a similar frame, if wearing far less muscle on said skeleton, and roguish pursuits do favor light steps and hands. This guy almost looks like a caricature of me! Onyx thought with a mental laugh. Garrick, looking back, smirked with much the reverse thought. Hey! This guy looks like he's going for the same 'Robin Locksley' look I did when we performed 'Prince of Rogues'!

Indeed, they looked almost as lost brothers, their differences being the sorts of things one choses. Whereas Garrick had a lanky build and an utterly smooth face - Onyx wondered if he even could've grown facial hair - Onyx had the face a young man will after on his third day since a proper shave. So too, Garrick had a daydreamy grin, whereas Onyx usually wore friendly-but-firm smile. Then again, Onyx thought, Jade was certainly fond of chiding him for his 'dreamy, faraway' gaze. His fingers had been trained on the sword and bow; Garrick's on the quill and harp.

Jaheira coughed deliberately, snapping Onyx's mind back. "Take us to this Silke," she stated, "And let us hear more. I can't say I approve of a performer who stands up their clients on a whim; but being physically threatened and hunted as hardly just recourse for such a petty thing."

"I think you've made a good decision," Garrick smiled clumsily, "She's around front of the Red Sheaf Inn." He waved for them to follow, and they did, Onyx, Jaheira, Khald, and Viconia marching along while Imoen and Garrick skipped ahead. Viconia snickered, noticing the similarity of their mannerisms.

The reached the front of the Red Sheaf, in one of the town's busiest streets, and Garrick pointed out a black-hooded woman. He waved goofily, and she threw back her hood to reveal the face of a moderately pretty woman, probably in her late thirties, who wore a bit too much makeup, and had her blonde hair tied up in a younger girl's fashion that perhaps she was hoping would influence guesses regarding her age. The cleavage jammed up and together by her sparing tunic was likely designed for similar effect.

"Hello there," she giggled and winked at Onyx, "I am Silke, thespain extraordinaire." Her chardonnay-fragranced voice, like her hair and heavily made-up face, was in quite-less-than-perfect imitation of a girl half of age.

Well, Onyx thought, No one ever said thespians were burdened with the sterotpye of over-modesty.

Silke looked him up and down and continued in her sultry alto, "I see my Garrick has been rather busy. I assume he's explained what your duties are. You must simply dispose of the ruffians when they come to threaten me. They shouldn't be too hard to deal with, but I would advise you to strike fast. Whatever you do, don't speak with them. One of them is a mage whose mystic words can sway even the most wise of men." She spoke these words overdramatically and with an air of mystery, as if she were upon a stage, as if the mystic she spoke of were Azuth's avatar itself.

"Likely," Onyx smiled neutrally, "But we'll hear them state their intent before we act."

"Would another 100 tempt you?" Silke smiled, and pursed her thick lips awaiting an answer.

"Couldn't hurt," Onyx shrugged.

"400 it is," Silke giggled, then let out a dramatic gasp of fright as she turned. "Ah, here they are now!"

Three rogues approached in glaringly bright red, green, and yellow hooded suits, looking more like clowns that thugs or thieves. "Feldepost's thugs!" Silke squealed, and backed up. "Strike when I tell you to!" Onyx exchanged bemused glanced with Viconia; these three didn't exactly look like a brute squad. Then again, neither have my bumbling would-be assassins.

"Greetings Silke!" the red-cowled one called obsequeously. "We're here as you've asked, and we have the.."

"Don't try to threaten me!" Silke screamed, hurriedly interrupting him, and waved her hands in frenzied arcs. "I won't be easy prey for you to beat on! I've brought friends!"

"What are you talking about?" the red-cowled man scratched his head. "It's me, Faltis! We're here with the gems that..."

"Shut up!" Silke snarled at them, overemphasizing her retreating steps behind the party. "There'll be no weaseling out of this one. STRIKE THEM!" she slapped Onyx's armored shoulder and pointed at Faltis and his friends. "Kill them all!"

"Stop this madness, we won't murder these obviously innocent men," scoffed Onyx. "They're obviously not who you claimed." Faltis and his companions breathed a huge sigh of relief as the armored gang of adventurers took their hands from their hilts and the leather-clad girl lowered her bow.

"Our deal is off!" Silke pouted. "In any case, you're probably too cowardly to be any good in a fight. I'll deal with them myself, after I deal with you!" She waved her ruby fingernails and lips in some spell, but a twang sounded, and an arrow sped into the upper chest she so proudly displayed.

"Meanie," Imoen sniffled and lowered her bow as Silke collapsed, her death absent of the fanfare and melodrama she had so oozed in life.

"Attacking an entire party by herself?" Jaheira arched a thin eyebrow.

"Well, Silke'd been hittin' the bottle pretty hard lately," Garrick shrugged.

"Uh...thanks," Faltis grinned and tossed a few gems, which Imoen caught eagerly, "These were for Silke, but I guess they're technically owed to you now. Uh, good day, and thanks for like, not killing us and stuff."

"Anytime," Onyx remarked dryly. Faltis and his men quietly slunk away - as well as one can wearing brightly colored cowls in broad daylight, anyway.

Viconia studied them, frowning, then looked at Imoen in her bright-purple leathers. "Is it common for surface rogues to dress so loudly?" she asked Onyx with both heavy sarcasm and honest curiosity.

"Silke's dead!" Garrick shouted, amazed, as if just now realizing this.

"I'm sorry about your mistress, Garrick," Onyx said grimly, "But we really had no..."

"I guess she had it coming;" Garrick laughed and swung his hand, "you can't be evil like her and expect to get away with it."

"Gosh, sounds like you two were pretty close," Jaheira rolled her eyes.

Wow, Onyx thought, He sounds more like a sterotypical paladin than I do! Then again, that's how actors often portay knights...

"That's...odd," Viconia whispered to Onyx, "In the Underdark, death of one's employer, superior, or mistress is often politically beneficial, but not greeted so j- what's that word you used earlier?"

"Jovially?" Onyx asked while Imoen started rifling through Silke's crumpled form, finding a potion, an enchanted quarterstaff which she tossed to Jaheira, causing the druid to smile at the thief for the very first time, and a coin pouch with their 400 gold.

"Woohoo! Thanks, Silke! Nice doin' business with ya!" Imoen giggled under her breath.

"Ah yes...jovially," Viconia smiled, "Such a strange word - and concept - you surfacers have come up with."

"More where that came from," Onyx chuckled. "Actually, after what you told me about your homeland earlier, I was wondering, in the Underdark, what exactly do people do for, you know, recreation?"

"Recreation?" Viconia looked confused. "To create something again?"

"Common is rarely that logical," Onyx laughed, "Recreation is something you do just for fun."

"Fun?"

"How about 'pleasure'?"

"Ahhh...." Viconia grinned, "Well..."

"I'm out of a job now!" Garrick screamed while looking over Silke. He looked ever-so-slightly less upbeat now.

"This lad is not the quickest, is he?" Jaheira groaned to her husband.

Oblivious, the bard pawed Onyx on the shoulder. "Would it be too much to ask if I could join up with you?" He looked hopefully at the party. Khalid grinned nervously, looking at Jaheira, who like Viconia groaned, while Imoen giggled, and Onyx thought carefully.

"Well," Onyx began, "You should know that we're headed south to investigate the Nashkel mines. Could be dangerous. How are you with weapons or magic or such?"

"Real adventurers!" Garrick exclaimed, lighting up like a kid getting a birthday present. "Wow! A real adventure! What a tale this'll make, why...ah yes, well, actually I am quite decent with both weapons and magic. A jack-of-all-trades! I'm a debonair dueler, a fearsome fencer," Garrick shadow-dueled, " a crack shot with a crossbow," he took aim at nothing with a launcher of air, "And a master of arcane magic!" He waved his fingers spookily.

Imoen was giggling hysterically, but Onyx arched an eyebrow at the bard.

"...and an expert storyteller, it seems," Jaheira groaned.

"Why yes," Garrick grinned, "I'm an actor and minstrel!"

The party snickered. Onyx glanced at Jaheira, whose face lacked either enthusiasm or protest, and to Garrick rejoined, "Welcome to the group." I need all the help I can get. And if this goofball is an assassin, then I really am Robin Locksley.

"This will be the beginning of an epic tale, I'm sure of it!" Garrick waved his finger in the air. "Lead on, noble knight, to dangers and glories 'pon the road ahead!"

"The surface keeps getting weirder and weirder.." Viconia muttered as they walked on, six strong.